Feel it All
by sacredcatrising
Summary: Kadaj always knew where to go. Kadaj always knew who to look for. Kadaj had the entire city on the tip of his fingers. Kadaj always knew who to ask. Kadaj had always everything under control. But not this time.


**09/26/2017**

* * *

 **Feel it All**

He swayed a little while walking, one side to the other, his long straight silver hair following the swinging.

A tune resounded in his head, in such an obsessive way that he couldn't help singing it under his breath, moving his head to the beat.

It was the paper bag he was holding tight in his right hand, the source of his euphoria. He could sense it climbing his arm, running through his bones, his muscles, his nerves, and reaching his shoulder, his chest, and from his heart spreading to all his body.

He held it tight, so tight that, if someone wanted to take it away, they would have had to tear out his arm from his bust. He wouldn't have let anyone steal his euphoria, the pleasure it contained.

He automatically caught the half-rusted key from the pocket of his leather jacket and put it in the keyhole. He had to force it a little, as always, pulling a bit towards himself and then pushing it open.

He couldn't help looking around while getting in. The hallway, though, was desert. No one on the left, no one on the right.

Or was it?

His hand run to the stock of his gun, set into the elastic band of his trousers.

A tiny mouse trotted out of a hole in the wall, it looked at him with its little black eyes for a long moment, as wanting to dare him to pull out his gun and shoot it, then it cleaned its muzzle up with its little paws and went back in its hole without being harmed or worst, killed.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he moved his hand away from the gun and pushed the flat's door open to get in.

Suddenly dark, he had to force his green eyes to familiarize with the surrounding.

The shutters were closed, shadows spreading all around and making the floor a minefield anybody would have found difficult to walk on, except him. He could even have walked with his eyes closed through that chaos of bottles, clothes, plates, because it was the same chaos he had left there when he had gone out.

-You promised you would have tidied up a little.-

He said, out loud, as he set down on the kitchen area's table the bag with its precious cargo. A three-room apartment, they couldn't afford anything else.

The living-room, the hall and the kitchen were fused a single room, narrow, suffocating, most of it looking like a hurricane had just passed there. Then the bathroom, a cubicle with the bare necessities, and their bedroom, their little nest, their safe lair in which curling up.

He sighed, not receiving a single reply.

Then entered the bedroom while taking his jacket off.

A ray of pure white light divided perfectly the room into two, from a single, thin opening in the half-closed shutter.

And there he was, laying in bed, slightly whining.

He couldn't help sighing again at the sight, shaking his head.

-You didn't wait for me.-

He muttered, taking his place next to him on the bed.

His little brother's eyes were wide open, empty, the pupil so dilated that it had almost swallowed the green iris. His cracked lips were slightly parted, curved giving him a pleased expression, just as his eyebrows, slightly wrinkled.

He tossed a lock of hair from his face, to feast his eyes on that sight. With a small chuckle he realized that he still had the empty syringe stuck in his arm, the tourniquet improvised with the usual black belt.

He caressed the little one's lips with his thumb, evaluating every smallest reaction of him with a half-pout. He still wasn't receptive, so he must have taken the dose a short time earlier.

With extreme gentleness he removed the syringe from his arm, drying the single drop of blood off with his fingers. He unbuckled the belt, that had left a red mark on the delicate skin of the little arm, and turned him around to lay on his back, to let him be more comfortable.

His short silver hair slipped on his face again, covering half of it. Even like that, he had a certain something irresistible, a mysterious beauty. He was almost jealous because he wasn't sharing that ecstasy with him.

\- ...Ya...zoo... –

He called, suddenly, with a high pitched but soft voice. He saw him lifting himself slowly, and immediately throwing his arms around his neck.

He didn't even have to struggle to hug him, he was so little and thin within his arm that he was almost scared of breaking him.

\- Tenshi. –

He muttered in response to his calling, placing a kiss on his forehead, through that hair that played by hiding his face, like it didn't want to reveal his features as a whole.

-I'm sorry…I couldn't…resist.-

The little muttered, a sad, languid expression suddenly on his face.

Yazoo hated seeing his little brother losing his smile like that.

Eighteen years old, but he looked like fourteen at most, especially for his delicate appearance: a tiny body, a thin angelic face, big and curious eyes, like a child.

And then heroin, it gave to that face, that body, an ethereal veil, it looked like he could disappear at any moment. And if, on one hand the pleasure in his eyes as deep as wells might be hypnotic, on the other his childlike whimperings kept one's attention where it had to be.

On himself. Always.

Anyhow, Yazoo would have never looked, listened or touched anything or anybody that wasn't him.

-It doesn't matter.-

Yazoo wasn't the smiling kind of guy, neither the one to use a sweet tone with him, but sometimes, when he knew that his brother couldn't have remembered, he used to give him some extra smiles, just because keeping control for so long turned out to be boring to him, like any other reason he kept on control himself anyhow.

-There is a little more.. you can make a dose of it.-

-Oh, I got some more. -

-Did you?-

A spark of awareness lit the little one's eyes, who was almost tempted to jump out of the bed for the sudden enthusiasm. Then he seemed to remember he was holding on Yazoo, who finally had come back, and that his body, pressed with such urgent need on his own, made him shake with hot anticipation.

-Let's make love.-

It wasn't even a question, quite the contrary. He plunged his head into the other's shoulder, while caressing his chest with one hand, more for his own pleasure then his. He tended to be ridiculously egoistic in order to receive pleasure.

-Has he arrived yet..?-

The eldest muttered, while his little brother leaved lingering kisses along the outline of his neck. Soft lips, compelling, eager, so little. Two rosebud, so soft on his skin.

-No, he's not here yet. It will take a while.- He sounded whiny, angry, frustrated. He couldn't stand to not be given the attention he desired, most of all because their available time could have finished any moment.- Come on.. Yazzie.. the dose..-

Kadaj's little hands pull on him slightly, his wide-eyes deep and pleading. They were a lure of irresistible beauty to Yazoo.

He approached to leave a kiss on his forehead and got up.

-I'll be quick.-

-Before he arrives, come on!-

Even if Kadaj's tone would sound provocative and shrill, his little voice was soft and, when Yazoo got up leaving him alone on the bed, he curled up, legs held to his chest, his silver head between his knees, eyes closed and focused.

 _Before he arrives, before he arrives._

Yazoo dashed off towards the table where he had left the bag. He pulled out the contents with so much care that it took more time than expected, since he heard a soft complaint from Kadaj coming from the bedroom.

A little transparent plastic bag full of white powder.

The spoon and the lighter were still on the table, where they had to be.

Even too slowly, but he had to be sure, he put the spoon inside the bag to take a little bit of powder.

His heart was still pounding in his chest, excited at the idea of what was soon going to happen.

The powder melted in few minutes because of the little flame of the lighter, hot against the spoon's metal. He used the syringe that Kadaj still had in his arm.

Pulling the piston, he took all the liquid in which the powder had turned into.

-Ready.-

Just a whisper, but he knew Kadaj would have heard him nonetheless.

He had silently crawled off the bed while Yazoo was preparing the dose, with that feline movements of those used to hide in the dark.

Despite his conditions, there was always something elegant in the way he moved, something formless and never completely… human.

His little hands went quickly to tighten the belt around his biceps, so that the vein in his arm was dimly visible throughout his pale skin.

Yazoo gave his brother the syringe, his eyes full of emotions that his face was not used to express.

-Don't hurt me, Tenshi.-

Was is quite amused whisper.

Kadaj couldn't hurt him. He wasn't able to do it.

The smile he gave him in response was like an anesthetic, so that when the needle pierced Yazoo's skin, he barely felt it.

The kiss he left on the little hole in his skin, touching it lightly with his tongue: that's what he felt.

The next rush of adrenaline made him shiver, while he locked his gaze on Kadaj, his Kadaj, his Tenshi.

He grabbed his chin, softly, and lost himself for a long moment in his eyes, so similar to his own. Bright, yet full of shadows.

He locked his gaze, almost with a sort of urgency, on the little one's lips, cracked because of the thirst and their poor nutrition, and yet so hot and tempting, enough to be an irresistible lure to him.

He was going to lose himself in a kiss when Kadaj tensed.

Dazed, Yazoo looked instantly for his eyes. Kadaj wasn't looking at him, his gaze lost in space, right beyond his shoulder.

-He's here, isn't he?-

He asked then, his voice a flat monotonous annoyance. When Kadaj nodded with a smile, Yazoo snorted lightly, letting go of his brother's face and following his gaze.

Despite his efforts, Yazoo couldn't see anything, and couldn't hide his frustration for the shifting of Kadaj's attention away from himself.

Anyway, he couldn't notice it. Al least, not now.

His green eyes were big, wide, looking in the void as admiring something that only he could see, a sight that Yazoo still wasn't able to behold.

But it didn't last long. Just the time the heroin circulating in his blood took to react.

In the first place, as always, his eyes appeared as emerald sparks in the darkness of the room. They were always so shining, he didn't have to smile with his lips, they were so excessively sweet and kind. He felt a mouthful of bile climbing up his throat, and for a moment he wished to stop staring and just throw up.

He pushed back his nausea at least as long as those eyes found their place in a face, a familiar face that slowly began to materialize, as well as his body.

Loz had always been too _big_ , bulky, loud. He caused trouble anyway he moved. A vase that he had accidentally bumped into, a foot he had stepped on, a nudge with his elbow in order to reach something. He continuously and improperly bumped into anything making Yazoo so annoyed.

Why did he had to stand a brother so stranger to concepts such as _elegance_ and _grace_?

Over time Yazoo had learned that that was the thing he missed most about Loz.

His incessant apologizing, his feeling himself so awkwardly out of place, his being ashamed for being too tall, too big, _too much_.

He missed get angry at him for that.

He missed arguing for every box of cereal tumbled across the floor because of his clumsy hands.

He missed him, and it was difficult to admit it. He would have never said it out loud, but he doubted Kadaj had realized it.

He missed him too, and they could share the pain of the loss, not erase it.

Yazoo saw him as he was before he died: always smiling and busy provoking some disaster.

-Now can you see him too?-

Kadaj chirped, excited, overwhelmed with delight.

He reached out for Yazoo's hand, who was more than ready to grab it. Intertwining his fingers with his brother's was like being complete again, putting back together the pieces of something that was broken.

-I can.-

Never, for all the world, Kadaj would have told Yazoo that he had realized his voice was trembling, that he had felt the tears hidden inside those two single words. But they both knew, and their silence was enough to keep it a secret.

Loz –what remained of him inside that place, maybe a shared memory, maybe an hallucination caused by the large dose of drugs they both had took- had no voice. His steps, once so loud, were now silent against the floor of the apartment. Even if he talked to them, they could barely understand him by following the movements of his lips.

Nothing more than a ghost, that kept moving as he wasn't aware of being one.

He wore his usual, worn-out apron, the one he always wore when he cooked for them, and it was full of flour, as always. His hair was messy, as always. He had that stupid smile on his face, as always. His eyes were shining brighter as he looked at his brothers. As always.

As.

Always.

Everything was as it had always been, maybe that was why it hurt so much.

Kadaj couldn't tell when he had realized Loz appeared only after a dose, nor couldn't say when it had started and why. He only knew one day his big brother had come back, and since then, he didn't want him to leave never again.

If the only way to see him at home again, at the stove again, or again with a broom and small shovel complaining because of the mess, _alive_ again, was ..keeping on getting high, Kadaj was glad to accept it.

Loz looked at them, but it was hard to tell if he was actually looking at them or _through_ them, like it wasn't him the ghost.

" _If only I could have died instead of you_."

A fleeting thought, it didn't belong neither to Yazoo nor to Kadaj, yet to both of them: it flew from one another through their hands, intertwined.

The elder's lips moved, his expression became worried.

 _You're too thin!_

He seemed saying.

 _You don't eat enough!  
_ The same old scolding.

And it was true. They weren't eating enough. Sometimes they didn't eat at all. Why wasting their money for the drugs in useless things such as food?

It was more important to see Loz than eating.

The elder shook his head. He pointed at them, scolding them, that voice they could not hear nor remember.

Kadaj often wondered how did Loz's voice sound. He fumbled inside his memories for a trace, but was never able to find it. Wherever he looked, in every corner of his mind, Loz was silent, it was like someone had turned off the sound on purpose.

The more he looked at those lips moving, the more he forced himself to imagine his voice.

It was grave, he was sure of that, vibrating, with whining tones that crashed with his body so big, his large shoulders, his chest that was a safe shelter in which he could hide.

They saw him moving towards the kitchen area, silently fumbling through the cupboard for some dishes, turning the stove on, taking invisible food from the empty fridge and starting cooking.

Although Yazoo forced himself, he missed a lot of elements, he could see Loz in black and white, blurred, his vision got better only when Kadaj added for him some details he could not see.

Why hadn't he looked more at him when he was alive? Why hadn't he payed attention to the silver shade of his hair, the way it fell on his face when he didn't pull it back, the way the light hit his eyes making them shine, the way he wrinkled his brow when he was annoyed even if he smiled?

He barely remembered all of that. If it hadn't been for Kadaj, maybe he wouldn't have seen him at all.

\- Pancakes! - Hopped the youngest, his nose up to catch a fragrance that Yazoo could not perceive - He's making pancakes. Mmmh.. Yazzie, do you smell it? - He didn't need an answer: no, he did not smell it, like all those missing details in their daily routine that he had never wanted to memorize. How stupid. - It's vanilla. Vanilla and.. sweet dough. –

Yazoo didn't nod nor deny, he just stayed there staring at his big brother's back while his hands held some invisible cooking tools . Kadaj would have known what they were, for sure.

He imagined he had a bowl in his arms, considering his position, and a ladle that he used to collect the batter to let it fall in the sizzling pan.

He forced himself to see, feel, perceive everything like it was real, but to his eyes everything stayed the same. That's why he turned towards Kadaj, pleading, no need to say a word.

And the youngest started describing him what he saw.

\- The green bowl. Do you remember it? We don't have it anymore. - and while he was saying it, something that looked like a bowl appeared to Yazoo's sight between Loz's hands - And the metal ladle, the big one. - even that, palely appeared to his eyes. Now Loz didn't look like he was holding invisible kitchen tools, at least. - Chocolate chips! Ah Lozzie, you put chocolate in the pancakes! - once again with his nose up to savor that fragrance. Yazoo wondered how it must be, while he observed the sparks inside Kadaj's eyes, the happiness.

It didn't matter if he could not see or feel the same things as his brother, as long as he was happy.

They stayed there, observing Loz's ghost cooking for a time that seemed infinite to them. Together, they tried to translate what he was telling them, but he moved his lips so fast that they could catch just few words. Then, just as he was setting on the table what he had prepared, he began to disappear.

His figure became thinner, more and more evanescent, like he was made out of mist.

Kadaj let go of Yazoo's hand, that he had hold tight just until that moment, and jumped towards the opalescent figure.

Since he detached from him, Yazoo wasn't able to see anything anymore.

\- Lozzie please, don't go! - how he had wanted to grab his arm, to force him to stay. But when he reached out with his hands, little and shaking, he caught nothing. A sob risked to leave him breathless while his big scared eyes stared at his brother's face. - Will you come back, Lozzie? Will you come back to us next time too? –

No reply. Loz just smiled, one of his sweetest smile, before vanishing into thin air.

Kadaj let himself slip on the ground, hid body suddenly emptied of any energy, trembling with sobs, like every time he saw him go away.

Every time was like losing him again.

Yazoo curled up beside him, he took him in his arms, cuddling him as he was a little child, while his frantic crying teared apart his heart.

\- Let's take another dose.-

It wasn't a question, but Kadaj nodded, suddenly finding again his will to smile, he lifted his head and looked at Yazoo.

\- Stronger. -

\- Anything you want, Tenshi. -

They got up, trembling and held in a hug that should have kept them together and instead it seemed just to accentuate the landslide inside their hearts.

The sun was setting, and none of them realize that the time passed.

And after all, when a few minutes later Loz reappeared, clearer than ever, focused on tidying the catastrophic chaos inside the flat, the time passing didn't matter to none of them.

* * *

When Kadaj opened his eyes it was only because he was hungry.

It felt like his stomach would have eat itself as long as it could have something to digest.

His head was spinning, it felt like he had sandpaper down his throat and his whole body hurt.

Yazoo was asleep by his side, an arm protectively around his waist. He was naked under the sheet that covered his pelvis and one of his legs. Kadaj took a moment to look at himself, at his naked chest, how the ribs surfaced from his pale skin, how his navel sticked out on his flat abdomen.

Then, he moved his gaze con the left, that part of the bed was usually occupied by the warm, bulky presence of Loz.

The emptiness he found caused a fit in his stomach, so that he had to place a hand on it trying to ease the pain.

If only he could do the same thing with his heart, or Yazoo's. Taking it to his arms, cradling it, holding it tight, stitching its wounds, erasing the pain, filling it with new love. Supposing that he himself was still able to feel it.

He softly moved his brother's arm in order to get off the bed. He didn't even remember how he got there, and once on his feet he realized he was naked. He groped around, defying his green eyes to see through the darkness of the room, until he found his boxers, at least. They had to be Yazoo's, since once he put them on he realized they were really too big. Or maybe he had lost weight again?

Wavering, he got out the bedroom, his stomach was growling, angry, assaulting his senses.

 _Eat, eat, eat._

The fridge, when he opened it, was empty. He tried to close it and open it again, but it remained empty.

When was the last time they had bought food?

He tried a last time, hoping to see appearing all the food he desired, like he was in a fairytail. All the food Loz always provide them.

Nothing.

 _Eat, eat, eat._

He placed again a hand on his stomach, with a grimace.

He inspected the pantry, opening all the doors. There was anything else than some forgotten bottle of oil, one of vinegar, leaves of onion dry and tattered by now, a slice of garlic that had filled the whole shelf with his nasty smell.

Turning his nose up he accepted the inevitable : there was nothing edible in the house.

For some reason he felt like crying and he had to restrain himself from starting again to sob like a child. How long had taken Yazoo to make him stop? Probably just the time to make another dose.

His gaze went on the table. The syringe was still there, most of the white powder was scattered on its surface, few drops of blood were clotting in a corner.

He checked on his arms and yes, maybe in the rush of getting high again he had hurt himself: a big purple bruise was starting to grow in the cavity of his arm.

Again, he turned his nose up.

 _Eat, eat, eat._

He wanted to punch that damn stomach to make it shut up, once and for all.

He tried to ignore it while, with a rusted knife by now, he collected the heroin left on the table. There was enough for a line.

 _Eat, eat, eat._

With a hand holding back his hair, he used the other to close one of his nostril in order to inhale the powder.

It immediately rushed to his head, and his stomach was immediately silent. Of course he was still hungry, but at least it had stopped its grumbling and muttering.

Plus, he could see Loz.

Sit at the kitchen table, Loz had is arms crossed on his chest, his gaze fixed on his brother. He doesn't look happy.

Kadaj pouted. He knew that face, the older was scolding him. He _hated_ being scolded by Loz. He hated being scolded _in general_ , but when it concerned Loz..

\- Don't look at me like that. – He muttered. Just then he realized his throat was obstructed and he had to cough a little to make his voice clear again. – What should I do according to you, hm?-

Loz didn't answer. And, by the way, even if he had answered, Kadaj couldn't have heard his voice. He just pointed at the stove, the fridge, the pantry, and Kadaj followed his hand like it could magically make everything like it used to.

And actually.. for a moment _he saw_ everything like it used to. Before the world crumbled under his feet, before they knew the wrong people, before Loz offered his life to save theirs.

He saw the pantry full of chocolate snacks, the ones he loved and Loz always bought, he saw the fridge filled with all the fruits and greens none of them liked but that should never miss, he saw the shelves full of cooking books, worn out for all that time they had been read and with improbable sauce stains.

All it took was for him to blink to make everything like it was. Desolated. Dirty. Empty. Like he felt.

Loz was still sit at his place, his arms again crossed on the table. He was staring at him more intensely this time.

\- Lozzie, you can't ask me this. – He whispered. Between them there was the paper bag half-full of heroin, the syringe, the spoon they use to melt it, their improvised tourniquet. – I won't quit. – He tried to sound sure of his words, of his intentions, but his brother's gaze send his head spinning for a moment.- I don't want to, Loz, I don't wanna! –It was a scream this time, slamming his hands on the table. Loz's ghost didn't move an inch. – Do you know what it means living without you? Do you know it? Do you have any idea?! You can't ask me this, I won't do it, not for you, nor for anyone else! -

\- Kadaj? –

Yazoo's voice, sleepy, from the bedroom. He turned his head towards it and when he went back staring at the place where Loz sit before, the only thing he saw was the empty chair.

He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, that almost creaked. Even if his heart was aching since he had seen him disappear again, the rage he felt was stronger.

He almost run to the other room, his eyes crazed.

\- Yazoo, it doesn't work anymore. – His brother looked at him like he had gone crazy, and the fact that he pounced on him, pulling his arm to make him sit didn't make things better. – It doesn't work anymore! -

\- Kad...what? –

Then he grabbed his shoulder and started shaking him, as prey of an unnamed fury. He realized he was going too far when Yazoo grabbed his wrists to stop him, now more alert.

He immediately regretted making a scene and it looked like his body deflated, he literally collapsed on his brother, his forehead leaned against his chest. The tears started to fall down before he could even realize it.

\- Yazoo...Yazoo...it's not enough, no more...we have to start with something else...or we won't see Loz anymore... –

There was no need to say anything else.

* * *

Kadaj always knew where to go. Kadaj always knew who to look for. Kadaj had the entire city on the tip of his fingers. Kadaj always knew who to ask.

Kadaj had always everything under control. But not this time.

Although he went on walking, his eyes fixed on the street, paying attention to every slight movement, he had no idea where to go, no idea who to look for, he didn't know who to ask, the city looked like a stranger, even an enemy.

The paranoia mixed with atavic fear started to nibble at his heart, taking it piece by piece, until he became a bundle of nerves.

Yazoo was following him, walking on his right, like a silent guardian angel.

As always, they had chosen the darkest moment of the day to get out in the street, that moment when they could be shadows between shadows, to find beneath them the relief they were looking for.

But after two hours of useless wandering it was almost clear that they wouldn't have find anything. Not for that night at least.

Making Kadaj notice his failure was not even considered an option. Yazoo was disposed to follow him all night long if necessary, everything just to avoid telling him to go home and try again the next day.

Kadaj couldn't fail, Kadaj always knew what to do.

They didn't know if that part of the city was left in the dark specifically to hide who or what lived there, but anyway most of the street lights were blown out, some of them flickered intermittently, casting a pale light on the sidewalks.

The smell of urine, blood and dirt was almost unbearable, but not as much as the sight of the tramps that curled up in the dark corner between a building and the other, or maybe just wherever they find a place: dirty, smelly, dangerous.

Yazoo couldn't help placing a hand over the stock of the gun, he always did it when they walked in that area, and he knew Kadaj had done the same, tightening his fingers around the handle of the knife he had under his hoodie.

They turned right, a prostitute in the street whistled towards Yazoo and winked at him, his single reply was an ice-cold glare that almost scared her even more than the visible bulge of the gun under the black jacket he was wearing.

-This should be the place.-

Kadaj said, completely estranged from everything around him. He couldn't see nothing else than the road to follow, the goal to reach.

Yazoo slightly nodded at his words, his green eyes focused on every little detail.

Since Loz…he had become more careful to details.

The younger got closer to what looked like a backdoor of some commercial activity. A baker, a pizza joint, a deli? Yeast and starch's smell saturated the whole alley, so that Kadaj had to punch his own stomach to make the hunger pangs shut up.

He knocked once and then held his own arms at his chest trying to comfort himself.

" _Everything's gonna be fine Kadaj_ " He said to himself, even able to convince himself " _They will open, you'll take what you need, and you will go back to Loz._ "

An eternity passed though, before someone deigned to open the door, Kadaj was close to think that _maybe_ he had failed, that _maybe_ everything had been a mistake, that _maybe_ he had to give up on Loz for good.

But when the door opened wide, creaking on its hinges, he exhaled a sigh of relief, and whichever horrible, scary thought he had come to conceive, it disappeared in that instant.

The man at the doorway went from being perplexed to being angry within thirty seconds, the time he took, probably, to distinguish the two young boys in front of his door.

-Who the hell are you, what do you want? We don't do charity here.-

Yazoo didn't even need Kadaj to tell him, he just acted. Just as the man started to stick out in order to reach something similar to a shotgun next to the door, he moved away the jacket just to show him the stock of his gun. And that was enough to petrify the man.

That instantly changed mood, starting to negotiate.

-If you're looking for money you're in the wrong place, my cash register is empty, you can go take a look for yourself if you don't believe me.-

-We're not here for that.- Kadaj had his own way to talk. It was a mixture between the cheerful tweeting of a bird, and the dense and violent scraping of a feline's growl. Something that was his and his alone. Together with that slight tilting of his head, that every single time sent a shiver down Yazoo's spine.- We're here for business. We want some sugar.

From negotiating to revelation.

It was clear, it was so easy reading his face when you know what to look for.

-Sugar? Who says you got the money to buy it?-

Kadaj made a gesture towards Yazoo, unnoticeable for anyone else, and he showed the man a roll of 50 dollars banknotes held by an elastic band that he had in the pocket of his jacket.

It wasn't so difficult readying the greed and avidity on the despicable man's face, but Kadaj smiled, adorably, a smile that tasted like death.

-Try to dump on us something of low quality and we'll come back here tomorrow to kill you.-

That tone of voice again, that sweet and gentle tweet, with a stinging aftertaste of threat.

The man smirked. He clearly couldn't believe it was possible for two thin and apparently fragile things like those little boys to keep such a pretentious promise.

That's why Yazoo was forced to shoot.

His gun didn't make any noise, not when he assembled the magazine, nor when he loaded, or when he pulled the trigger. It was oiled and well-greased in its every single part, with attention and love, something Yazoo didn't even show to any human being. Except Kadaj, obviously.

Yazoo never missed a shot, he always hit the target, unless he wanted to miss it on purpose. And avoiding blowing up that man's head was really a complicated task for him, since it was easier to just hit him between his eyes than make the bullet swing near his ear enough to make him feel the air moving, the hissing it caused.

The shot didn't resound more than necessary thanks to the muffler, and the bullet, hissing, plunged behind the man.

Kadaj interpreted his face turning pale, his pupils dilating, his lower lip suddenly starting trembling as a sign of his comprehension, that's why he nodded, compliant, as he had someway replied to his question.

-So, this sugar?-

The man didn't make him tell a second time.

* * *

It ran through their veins, made them burn, set fire to their senses. Their skin was itching so hard that they would have scratch it to the bone.

And their hearts, their hearts were pumping more blood than necessary, as they were eager to send the drugs running through their veins.

Yazoo could vaguely hear Kadaj laughing, lying on the bed, staring at nothing.

His little hand found his own and then he saw what the younger was seeing.

Loz, that was folding their clothes, Loz, that was collecting the broken pieces of a vase from the ground.

Loz, that haunted that house and permeated their thoughts, minimizing their needs in the simple longing to have him back.

One more time, for the last time. They would never have enough.

Kadaj rolled on one side, his silver head leaned against Yazoo's chest

He looked at him with green ad particularly shining eyes, as he could see through him, as he could see something that wasn't there anymore, the person he no longer was, the person he could never become.

He caressed his face with his free hand, his fingers were cold but Yazoo felt himself burn by touching him.

He ran a finger on his nose, stroking its profile, reaching his lips. He found them interesting, since he lingered there for a while, drawing their form with his fingertips, as trying to impress that memory in his body before his mind.

If only he'd had the time to do the same with Loz.

Kadaj stopped all of a sudden, shaking his head towards the pale vision in front of him and gave a small laughter.

-I guess he doesn't agree.-

He muttered, looking again for Yazoo's gaze. Winking his eyes, he too was trying to understand his older brother's expression, but he barely distinguished his face.

Maybe that drug too wasn't strong enough.

-Did we ever care about it?-

He replied in an amused whisper.

Kadaj laughed again.

It was so beautiful hearing him laugh, seeing in him all that happiness that never lasted enough to remain in memories, catching the light of crazy, sweet euphoria that was so rare to see by now.

He was beautiful. And it was hard for Yazoo to hold out against beautiful things.

He softly placed a hand on his face, caressing his cheek with his thumb. He tried to pull him closer, ma the younger pulled away with another small laughter.

-Come on, not in front of Lozzie, you know he'll go into a sulk then.-

Yazoo had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, but after all he didn't care.

He couldn't deny anything to Kadaj, he could't deny him himself, he could't deny him Loz either. And Kadaj needed Loz more in that moment.

Kadaj raised to sit, his skinny legs crossed, his arms stretched out as he was expecting to be lifted any moment.

A kid, a kid that never had the chance to grow up, neither he wanted to.

Although he was conscious that Loz couldn't, and never could have held him like he did when he was alive, Kadaj remained there, waiting. A wait full of expectations.

He didn't mind the fact that the image of his brother passed through his reaching hands, he didn't mind he couldn't sense the heath of his skin, he didn't mind it wasn't real.

He was there. That illusion was enough to make him happy.

-Do you ever think about the life we had before?-

Yazoo asked, his gaze towards the point where his eyes were still able to catch Loz' image.

His large shoulders, his hair pulled back.

Kadaj didn't reply, not immediately at least, first he had to give in his attempt to be held by his older brother's arms. With an annoyed and childlike snort he went back to curl up against Yazoo's chest.

Even if he knew perfectly well that Loz just _couldn't_ , he blamed him anyway.

-The life before? When?-

Uncertain, like he was struggling to remember. But they both knew there were things that nothing could erase, not even their desperate desire to try.

It was Yazoo's gaze to speak for him. It was the way it, melancholy, it embraced the whole room; the way his green irises fell on every object missing or present, remembering the reason of the absence of everything; the way it, then, moved from the evanescent figure of Loz to the one in the flesh of Kadaj, without changing expression.

It was that, and the soft glint of tears that he would have not spilled, to speak for him.

Kadaj felt something trembling inside of him, a part of him that he had tried to bury and hide was trying to rise up, right in the middle of his chest.

An infinite time passed before he found the will, or maybe the strength, to reply.

-Sometimes.-

Sometimes he thought about how it would have been different if Loz was still alive.

Sometimes he found himself thinking about how he would have liked to finish school, to graduate, to found a real job, instead of keeping a knife in the jacket and rob shops.

Sometimes he basked in the fantasy that everything they were living was the dream, and Loz's ghost the reality, a reality that was just a line of cocaine away from becoming, well, real.

Sometimes he told himself that, yes, luck had never smiled to them, first of all leaving them orphans when they were just children, then making them incapable to look after themselves, but after all they had been lucky for having Loz and surviving everything.

Sometimes he also thought about cutting his wrists whit that knife he always kept too close, night and day, under his pillow, in his pocket, inside a boot.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

Yazoo didn't ask anything else, neither he dared say what he was thinking.

Because, for him, "sometimes" meant something different.

Sometimes he wondered how could it feel like dying.

* * *

 _Kadaj was a chronic liar, Loz knew it perfectly well. But few things in the world were more difficult than exposing one of his lie, or than resisting his sweet eyes when he apologized._

 _His apologies were lies too._

 _Loz also knew that lying the same way he lied was impossible. He didn't have the same grace, the attractiveness, or the smile suitable for that aim. Maybe neither Yazoo would have been able to._

 _But when he came back that night, something in his attitude, something in the way he spoke, maybe even something in the way he moved, deceived Kadaj._

 _Him, that claimed to be the King of Liars, him, that claimed that he couldn't be deceived._

 _He should have understood, he should have seen._

 _But he didn't understand, he didn't_ see _._

 _Maybe he didn't want to._

 _Everything that happened under his eyes was his older brother, just about twenty three-years-old, coming back tired from work, tossing a paper bag from Mc Donald's on the table, and going back to their room._

 _Nothing strange, and the smell of hamburger covered the one of fear._

 _Loz had been hiding for a long time the letters from the electric company, the phone bills, the gas ones, the water ones. He had become so good at hiding them that Kadaj never found even one of them, not like the chocolate bars that Loz scattered around in the apartment hoping that Kadaj didn't had the chance to eat them before dinner. Because he was always able to find them._

 _Loz had been able to hide them, and then, even the black envelopes with the red seal, the ones with "Shin-ra Electric Power Company" written on them, that, as Kadaj and Yazoo had found out later, didn't offer them a new, cheaper contract to save money on electricity._

 _In the beginning it was easy to not realize it, even when Loz said he had found a better job. They needed the money, after all._

 _After the red seal envelopes, the men in the black suits came too._

 _At first once every two months, then every month, then once every two weeks, then almost every day._

 _Kadaj remembered the sound of their steps as they approached the door of the apartment._

Thump thump thump thump _, the sound of expansive shoes against a shoddy floor._

 _And the sound of a man's voice from the other side of the door that was slowly counting to three, before breaking down the door with a kick, Loz's warmth a second before pushing Kadaj and Yazoo behing his back, the sparkle of the gun's barrel that was now pointed to his head._

 _The echo of the shot, the thud of Loz's body when it hit the ground, the horrible sucking sound of the carpet that was absorbing his blood._

 _The scream that never left his lips but that broke his heart instead, devouring it, tearing it to pieces._

 _And then the man's voice again. That offered him a choice. That gave him time. That wanted to spare them. That didn't want them to end up like Loz. That wanted to be thanked._

 _And.._

\- Kadaj. –

His eyes opened wide in the dark and he focused on Yazoo, his pretty face eaten away with worry. Kadaj wanted to be strong enough to erase those wrinkles that appeared on his forehead when he frowned that way.

He took some moments to realize what must have happened.

Yazoo was holding both his wrists, firmly, and he felt barbwire in his throat.

He must had screamed in his sleep.

-Everything's okay now, Yaz.-

He wheezed. He should have realize how his voice sounded before talking, so at least he could have tried to clear his throat.

His brother nodded, but didn't let him go. His eyes were looking for the lie he had just told.

Nothing was okay, they both knew.

But he let himself convince, as always, and let him free from his grasp, falling again on his side of the bed.

Kadaj rubbed down his wrists. Ho strongly had he kicked and screamed to force Yazoo to grip his arm hardly enough to hurt him?

But could he ever blame it on him?

-You had that nightmare again?-

Yazoo tried to ask, turning slightly his head towards him.

All he wanted was to soothe his pain, to throw it away and leaving in him nothing else than the obliviousness of cloudy memories. If he could just suffer in his place he would have done it, a hundred, a thousand times.

But Kadaj didn't let him, he thought that he was doing him a favor by keeping for him that suffering.

-Everything's alright.-

He restated, he even cracked a smile, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. It never reached his eyes.

-You can tell me, you know.-

-Everything's alright, Yaz.-

-Kadaj.-

-Everything. Is. Alright.-

-Why don't you want to talk to me about it?-

-Yazoo, shut up.-

-I just wanted to..-

-Shut up, SHUT UP.-

He forced himself to get on his feet, even if he didn't feel strong enough to keep the upright position.

But he didn't want Yazoo to see him cry.

-We can talk about it.-

The last attempt, they both knew.

Kadaj could accept Yazoo's reaching hand, the chance to share their pain, or keeping on deny himself the relief of splitting its weight in half.

-I need another dose.-

-..Tenshi.-

But he was already stumbling towards the kitchen.

Kadaj could have borne the nightmares, if only they weren't all about Loz's death.

Even the dreams where they were happy had started to get confused and to become dark, like someone was placing, night after night, a filter of a shade of shadow bigger and bigger, until making them a dark abyss of suffering.

Any image reminded him that he hadn't done enough, he hadn't been enough, that he had let himself enjoy a life he had never deserved, and now he was paying the right consequences.

Why had he ever understood how hard it was for Loz finding a way to go on, why hadn't he understood that Loz lied everytime he said he wasn't hungry, but he denied himself the food for them instead, why hadn't he understood that if they had survived year, after year, after year out of the orphanage it was all because of the brave willpower of Loz.

Why.

He couldn't make it to the kitchen table, because he broke down in tears, his little body shaken by violent but silent sobs.

Even now that he could reach Loz he was afraid to do so.

It would have taken so little effort, the pain wouldn't even has been so unbearable.

All it took was to pretend to get the dose wrong, for example, just filling the syringe enough to be sure to never wake up again.

But then, what would Yazoo have done?

He was the last thing that he had left in the world, a shattered pillar he kept on leaning against.

He couldn't be so selfish to deny his presence to him.

He couldn't be so selfish to choose death.

The tears stopped only when he felt the soft stinging of the needle in his arm. He looked upwards and met Yazoo's eyes, a pale smile on his lips. He pressed the piston all the way down, and it remained just a shadow of Kadaj's pain.

He would have faced it late. And then later, and later, and later.

* * *

The echo of the shot resounded in Kadaj hear louder than it actually was, maybe fueled by memories that for now were just a distant pounding at the base of his skull.

The adrenaline rushing through his body stunted his emotion, though the crazy joy of the victory was lighting his green eyes.

-Look at all this money!-

He chirped, to the brink of euphoria, while Yazoo steered a little too violently to turn the corner.

The police sirens were far, Yazoo was a good driver.

-Do you know how much junk we can buy?-

The question was left without an answer, but yes, he knew perfectly well how much junk they could have bought. And just the idea made him push the foot all the way on the accelerator.

-Is there enough to pay the debt with the Shin-ra?-

-And then we will be free!-

Kadaj answered, as though Yazoo hadn't asked him a question.

How long had they waited for that moment? So much that they had stopped thinking about it, hoping, even just imagining it.

While he plunged his hands in the bag full of money, Kadaj could catch sight of a happy future.

If they could buy happiness, they could buy anything.

Shin-ra Electric Power Company.

You couldn't have known how to find it if you dindn't know where to look for it.

And, usually, when you did found it you didn't go back to tell anybody.

Bad deals, rackets, women, drugs, guns. Money. A lot of money. The reason why Loz had had to sell his soul, and later his own life.

Once in business with the Shin-ra, there was only one way to get out of it: dead.

And if Loz had been able to get out, Kadaj and Yazoo were the ones that had to stay, because someone had to pay his debt.

A loan, just that, to pay the rent, and then another, for the bills, and then another one, for the grocery shopping.

The money was never enough.

If there was something vaguely true in Shin-ra's name it was its affinity with electricity: fast, silent, painless, it left behind the burned bodies of those that couldn't manage it.

Kadaj walked back and forth, consuming the floor.

There wasn't the carpet anymore, nor the turbid blood stain that, like thick dark oil, had drenched it.

His steps on the floor were way louder now. But not as loud as his mind.

He counted to sixty, added a minute to the ones he had counted before, and started again.

160 minutes had already passed since he had started counting.

His troubled gaze fell on Yazoo, elegantly sit at the kitchen table, his gun on his lap. He was polishing it, caressing it, scrutinizing every aspect of it as looking for imperfections.

None of them would have died because of Shin-ra. Not again.

Their gazes met. They weren't able to smile, even if they both wanted to.

The temptation to take what remained of the white powder in the bag and inject it in his veins was almost unbearable for Kadaj. It would have loosen up the tension, relaxed his muscles, it would have made him more active.

But it would have made Loz appear.

He didn't want his brother to witness that scene. He would have gotten angry.

Then he heard it, the sound of expensive shoes on a shoddy floor.

He had arrived.

Kadaj turned his head to look at Yazoo, who took the safety off the gun.

That " _click_ " meant " _They won't hurt us this time_ ".

The shoes stopped in front of their door, the light that passed under it let them see the shadow of their owner.

An endless second passed, and then another one. The shadow was motionless in front of the door.

Then the knocking of gloved knuckles echoed in the apartment.

Kadaj flied covering the distance to the knob.

He opened the door expecting to find the tall, bald, dark-skinned man that had killed his brother, so much that his heart had started pounding and pounding in his rib cage, leaving him breathless.

He found himself in front of a boy, probably not older than Yazoo. The black suit he was wearing was more than enough as an introduction, as well as his emerald eyes, half hidden by a pair of sunglasses' frame that were slipping on his thin nose. A shock of red hair framed his pale-skinned face.

If appearance can be deceptive, Deception was his name.

The way he nonchalantly insinuated a hand in the jacket's pocket to take a pack of cigarettes, placing one of them between his lips, revealed a self-confidence that couldn't come just from the man himself.

During the time the guy took to light the cigarette and take the first breath in a puff of smoke, Kadaj noticed what Yazoo confirmed as soon as they were able to exchange a look.

A gun at his belt, with a truncheon that must have been the less dangerous of his weapons, to be exposed like that. Another gun under the jacket, for sure a knife in his pocket.

They couldn't even hope he was alone. Shin-ra men never walked alone.

-Won't you ask me in?-

Were his first words, useless, since he already had a foot beyond the doorstep, making sure to impede Kadaj from closing it, if necessary.

He felt like he was a step ahead of them but he had no idea how deep the eyes of the brothers could see.

Kadaj moved away to let him in and only when the onther walked beyond him, he closed the door behind his back. He had the funny sensation that he had just slammed the door in the guy's partner's face. Because of course he was there, somewhere.

The redhead moved some steps inside, certified the state of mess of the house, made a childlike face at the sight of the drugs on the table, but then he got things into perspective: all it took was for him to notice the gun that, like it was a cat, Yazoo kept on his lap and was keeping on caressing.

-Nice toy.-

He commented, serious, addressing at him.

Kadaj knew well the expressivity hidden behind Yazoo's inexpressivity. And he knew what the look he was giving the redhead meant. He almost wanted to laugh.

That guy didn't even know how close he was getting to death for calling "toy" Yazoo's beloved gun.

-Can we talk about business?-

The same way Kadaj had noticed Yazoo's gaze, Yazoo noticed the excited hint in Kadaj's voice.

The redhead breathed a long puff of smoke before answering, its stinging scent filled the air for a moment and Kadaj thought at how, how much Loz would have gotten angry. Not only they had let a Shin-ra guy in, but they were letting him smoke.

-I don't usually talk about business if I'm not offered a drink first.-

-We've got nothing to drink.-

Replied Kadaj, colder. He was getting annoyed by the way theguy kept on watching him and Yazoo, his gaze bouncing like a pinball from one another, as he was considering who to kill first and how to kill him. He had a lot of weapons on himself.

-Nothing to drink? You won't even offer me a chair to sit?

The thud the gun made when Yazoo slammed it on the table startled even Kadaj.

It was a clear warning and if the redhead was smarted than he looked he would have caught it.

-Alright, let's talk business the way we are. It's not professional, not even polite to be honest… -but Yazoo slammed again the gun on the table, startling the redhead this time- Very well, as you want. –he took another breath of smoke and Kadaj restrained himself from jumping at his neck when he blew it on his face- I guess there is a good reason that led you to bother the Shin-ra. At least I hope so. –

Kadaj could sense it on his skin how Yazoo needed to shot him, open a hole round and perfect in his forehead, and see him falling backwards in a pool of blood.

-We've got the money to pay our debt.-

Kadaj announced, chest out, head up, pride in his voice. Loz couldn't be happier about this. Or at least he hoped so.

The redhead expression was difficult to understand even for them, they who had become so good at reading into the changes of one's face.

Was it disbelief?

Surprise?

Admiration?

Mockery?

Hard to tell, but neither Kadaj nor Yazoo wanted to think that it was difficult because of the fact they were in front of not a common person, but a Shin-ra exponent. One of the people responsible for Loz's death.

It wasn't hard just reading into his face's micro-expressions, but restrain themselves from tearing him apart.

Another puff of smoke, blown sideways this time, before talking.

-Let me see.-

Yazoo observed carefully the redhead, while Kadaj took two bags full of banknotes. He didn't lose sight of him, not even for a moment, and his hand more than once got close to the trigger of his gun. That because, he was sure of it, even the guy's hand was continuously hesitating towards that point, below his jacked, where his gun was hidden.

Kadaj almost flung the money before the redhead, like it wasn't important to him. But it was, of course it was.

He glanced quickly at what the bag contained, maybe he tried to count it himself to get a sense of it.

Then he shook his head.

First Yazoo, then Kadaj: both of them felt a stab in their stomach.

-It's not ebough.-

-What?- It was incredible how Kadaj's voice was controlled even if it was possible to hear a dangerous growl forming in the back of his throat – We counted it, everything's there.-

-Yes, and the interests? You're not willing to pay them? –Before Yazoo could lift his gun to point it at the guy, there was already _his_ gun, placed against Kadaj's chest.- Let's see if I got this right.- The redhead muttered, amused, spitting on the floor what remained of the cigarette butt consumed by now. – You inconvenience Shin-ra because you're sure a bunch of dirty banknotes like this could settle your debt, you don't even have an idea of how much you have to pay the interests, and all of that to obtain _what_ exactly?-

-We don't want to work for Shin-ra anymore.-

Kadaj hissed, the poison that filled his voice would have been deadly, like theone of a rattlesnake. But the redhead was immune.

He burst out laughing, shaking his head, the gun still pointed at his chest.

Yazoo's eyes went from one to the other. Would he be faster than him to pull the trigger, could he kill him before he killed Kadaj?

He'd been so damn fast when he had pulled out the gun. He hadn't even noticed it. Stupid.

-You can't _want_ anything. You belong to us, you still haven't got it? – Kadaj felt a chill running through his veins, his heart almost stopped. He swallowed, almost letting go of that determined expression. –You won't _ever_ have enough money to "stop working for Shin-ra". You have a permanent contract, and should be glad to. –vaguely, with the barrel of his gun, he pointed at what surrounded them – We pay for this hole you call house, we let you stay alive. And what do you think are you doing? Rob some grocery shop like some petty thieves and convince yourselves that that's enough? Maybe the drugs fucked your heads up. –With his chin he hinted at the thin layer of white powder that covered the table.- I almost forgot, which you take from _our_ dealers. You're not even free to choose how to die, it's hilarious that you don't get it.-

Kadaj felt his muscles filling up with adrenaline, he perceived the beating of his heart speeding all the way up, his pupils dilated as to let him focus on every little detail.

The redhead's eyes were fixed on Yazoo, maybe because he was the one armed and dangerous, maybe because he didn't even notice that Kadaj had already shoved a hand in his jacket's pocket, holding the knife's handle.

-It's enough to pay the debt. – Kadaj repeated, maybe trying to convince himself more than the redhead.- And you will take it. And you'll get out of here. And you'll never come back.-

\- Adorable. – a rapid look. The guy knew it was better not divert the attention from the armed brother. And by the way, why lingering over that skinny and sick thing that Kadaj seemed to be? – Was it the other one, what was his name? Loz? Was it Loz to fill your brain with all this rubbish? Did he tell you too many fairy tales when you were younger? –

It was a moment, just the time it took for the blood to reach his head and he started to see red. Flame red.

Kadaj jerked forward like a cat the same moment when Yazoo crouched to take cover under the table, now knocked over. Even if he had been fast, the redhead was able to shoot, but his shot misfired, since the teen grabbed his arm, the one that was holding the gun, with one of his hands, while he used the other to stuck the knife in his stomach.

The gush of blood coming from his lips got his face dirty, but he didn't stop.

He didn't stop even at the second stab that ripped his diaphragm apart.

Not ever at the third one, that pierced his stomach.

Not at the fourth one, the deadly one.

Nor at the fifth one.

Nor at the sixth.

The seventh.

The eighth.

He was crying, silently, when Yazoo's hands grabbed his wrists, impeding him from sinking again his knife inside the guy's tormented body.

His hold on the knife became unstable, because of all that blood that was making the handle slick, and Kadaj let it fall.

His eyes wide open could barely focus on what he had just done.

But he felt good.

He felt great.

-We've got to leave.-

He muttered to Yazoo, surely not expecting a negative reply.

He could have told him that first he had to change his clothes, to take off the ones soaked in blood, to wash away all that red from the silver of his hair, to clean his face.

He could have told him that even if they leaved, nothing and no one could save them.

He could have.

But he didn't do it, because he was sure Kadaj already knew it.

They had lived till now because of this moment.

When Kadaj was back on his feet, the bloody knife again at its place in the inner pocket of his jacket, Yazoo was right behind him.

They took with them as much money as they could, and ran away.

They could have never see that house again, nor the memories of who had died there. And if it was a relief knowing that they were leaving there forever the Shin-ra guy's spirit, on the other hand it was painful: Loz would have been left alone.

The hallway that separated them from the first flight of stairs looked like it was endless, and they could already hear the sound of steps from the other side, fast.

Kadaj didn't need to grab Yazoo in order to know that he was there, close to him, so close that he could sense his breath ruffling his hair, but he did it anyway. He fumbled for his hand as a comfort, he intertwined his finger with his brother's, firmly.

 _Whatever happens_ , he seemed to say, _I won't let go of you._

They ran breathlessly across the stairs, jumping the steps when they could, while a humming of agitated voices was starting above them.

They were already there, they knew what they had done.

Outside the building the air was static, full of electricity, the sun was setting beyond the horizon extending the shadows, giving them the impression of being constantly followed.

The rumble of an engine reached clearly their hears, it had to be a high-powered car parked in front of the building. A Shin-ra car.

They squeezed inside an alley behind and went on running.

Kadaj was dripping blood, Yazoo felt his heart clenching at every step: that could have been his blood. He restrained himself from asking him if he was alright just because his reason told him _he was alright_ , it was just that Shin-ra's jackal's blood, he had to come to terms with it.

It was so difficult, though.

Turning the corner, Kadaj felt his legs giving up. At the end of the alley he could see a black van parked sideways that was blocking the road. He didn't have the time to think at what to do, because Yazoo had already thought for him. He pulled him sideways, entering another alley, large enough to let in just people by foot.

Pulled by Yazoo, Kadaj was able to run through two more alleys. If he looked back he could see the trail of blood that he was leaving behind at every step.

-Take off your jacket.-

He commanded, and before Kadaj could even realize, Yazoo had already done it. He threw it in a near trash can and they both ignored the bloody squishy sound it made when it hit the bottom.

The blood under the sole of their shoes was getting encrusted, making it more difficult for Shin-ra's bloodhounds that were following them by foot.

But they knew they still were in danger.

The sun was inexorably collapsing beyond the horizon, in the sky were starting to sparkle the first stars, the air was becoming crisp on the two's flushed skin that were running breathlessly.

Kadaj's eyes were running through the streets looking for a safe place to hide waiting for the waters to settle. They had enough money to leave the city, but they couldn't do it at once. Shin-ra would have made inaccessible for them any immediate way out.

When Yazoo's hand left his own he almost felt like dying. He didn't even have enough time to call his name, his throat suddenly narrowed in a grip of panic.

But his brother has moved just to.. hit with a violent punch a biker that was naively trying to wear his helmet and take off with his bike. He couldn't, since he fell hardly to the ground, his nose broken.

The helmet fell, reaching Yazoo's feet who immediately threw it to Kadaj, while he dealt with turning on the engine and jumping on the seat.

Kadaj didn't need to hear it twice, he wore the helmet - even if inside him he would've preferred that his brother did it- and he sat behind him, his arms that automatically and naturally held him around his waist.

The bike made a slow growling sound before coming alive and taking off at full speed.

The wind through his hair, the feeling of Kadaj's body held tight against his own, the vibration of the engine under his legs, the awareness of the accelerator that was responding to his commands: it meant that Yazoo had everything under control.

He gained speed on the main street driving the wrong way, raising a chorus of horns and insults that faded into the wind.

Somewhere, behind them, he could hear the roar of a car following them.

Kadaj didn't dare moving his head, not even what it took to stick it out and see if there actually was someone following them, but he understood because of the way Yazoo, suddenly and almost desperately, sped up to the limit.

Before his eyes the city was blending, like someone had voluntarily mixed up colors, sounds, shapes, making everything an opaque, blurry nothing without outline. He couldn't say where they were , but he trusted his brother's driving.

He felt his stomach tumbling down in his belly when Yazoo suddenly braked and steered almost rearing up to turn abruptly at ninety degrees in a secondary road. He didn't ask for explanations - and besides, his the wind howling into his hears it would have been difficult not only asking but even obtaining an answer - he just held tight to Yazoo, his arms were starting to hurt. He could hear his long hair hitting the helmet with cracks like a whip and he could have kicked himself: he should have worn it!

Another abrupt turn, Kadaj felt like throwing up, he would have done it if he had something in his stomach.

Then the speed reduced, Yazoo stopped the bike. He was out of breath and his eyes were red because of the wind, his hair was so messy that Kadaj felt the need to have a hairbrush. Not that when he took off the helmet he was in a better state.

The left the bike behind a trashcan, so that it was invisible from the road, and started walking again.

They were in an industrial area in the outskirts, with abandoned warehouse. Huge cranes stood out against the sky, old and rusty. Colored containers were place against each other, some of them were open, giving a shelter to stray cats and homeless.

Pulling each other, tires, they entered what must have been some kind of factory, but it was hard to say _what_ kind, the machines were worn-out, the sign unreadable, and the inside full of spider webs and dust.

Kadaj could hear his heart slowing down, his organism re-absorbing all that adrenaline, the tension melting: they were safe.

He met Yazoo's gaze and knew he was thinking the same.

The took some moments to rest, letting their bodies fall sitting against one of the walls, corroded by humidity.

They were still out of breath, like they couldn't find enough air to breathe properly.

\- Tomorrow - Kadaj started, eyes fixed on an empty space in front of him - we'll get on the bike again and we'll leave, we'll go as far as possible. They'll never find us. -

\- Never. -

Yazoo repeated, a half-smile on his pale lips.

Kadaj looked at him, frowning. He was _so_ pale.

\- Yazoo... -

His brother turned his head slowly, that smile still on his lips. He was holding a hand against his side.

He felt his heart grabbed and crushed into a vice.

He was trembling when he moved away Yazoo's hand and saw the blood. He gently pulled down his zipper and almost started when he saw a grimace of pain on his brother's face.

Blood. Too much blood. It was coming out through a bullet hole that had hit his side.

\- When.. -

Kadaj hissed, so softly that he hardly heard himself.

Yazoo shook his head.

Did it matter?

He realized he must have happened when he had braked so abruptly. Because of the helmet and the wind he hadn't heard the shot at all, nor Yazoo had let him notice it, and moreover the jacket had stopped out the blood without absorbing it.

The tears started to roll down his face, so suddenly that his vision became blurred for a moment.

He tried to stop the blood with his hands, pushing hard, even as he saw his brother gritting his teeth for the pain.

\- Everything's gonna be alright Kadaj. - Yazoo muttered, paler and paler, more and more distant. - We just have to hide here for tonight, tomorrow we'll go away.-

-Don't bullshit me! -He screamed, his voice was frantic peak of panic and pain - I have to take you to the hospital, now! -

-I don't think you're going anywhere, neither today, nor tomorrow. -

Kadaj felt a strange sensation of annihilation when his eyes lifted and he found himself with the barrel of a gun pointed at him.

He felt like he was already dead, so why pretend to be scared, pretend to be shocked, pretend at all?

He didn't even lift his hands, he kept on trying to tampon Yazoo's injure.

The guy in front of him was without a doubt a member of Shin-ra. Even if he didn't wear the typical uniform, black jacket, white shirt and also black trousers, it was clear that he was.

Who else could have followed them till there?

He could catch a sense of guilt inside Yazoo's eyes and he was quick to hushed it with a look.

 _It's not your fault that he found us_ was saying his big, shiny green eyes.

\- You know what's ridiculous? - They guy asked. He was blond, blue eyes, the face of an angel even if expressionless - That if you hadn't kill Reno it wouldn't have necessary to come so far. You could have kept working for Shin-ra and stay alive. -

Kadaj replied with nothing else than a spiteful look.

Under his hands Yazoo's warm blood was keeping on gushing, and he was breathing in hiccups. How would he wanted to stand up and be a shield for his brother. How would he wanted to protect him till the end.

He closed his eyes, hoping to not be forced to see Kadaj dying. He couldn't have stood it, he would have gone insane.

When he heard the _click_ of the trigger and the blast of the bullet, he instantly knew who would have fallen.

Kadaj had took the gun from his belt and had shot, hitting the blond's arm.

He heard his surprised scream, and during the second too late that Kadaj's hands, inexperienced with firearms, took to reload, his gun shot. And didn't miss the target.

It was strange, because he didn't feel any pain. He just felt that warm, moist sensation of losing blood, the shirt starting to soak. So annoying.

He felt his body weak and let fall Yazoo's gun, while a hand ran to his own chest, studying it, touching it, looking at the round hole in his shirt.

Every beat of his heart corresponded to a gush of blood. But again, no pain.

He lifted his eyes towards the guy, that was still pointing the gun at him, as to ask him why, why dying didn't hurt.

And that was when he saw him.

Loz, standing beside the blond. His arms were crossed and the look in his eyes was almost resigned, like he had caught them getting into trouble and was by far too late to fix it.

He got closer, getting past the guy with the gun that not only didn't seem to notice it, but looked paralyzed, stuck in time and space in the moment he had fired his gun.

Only then Kadaj could hear, loud and clear, Loz's steps on the floor, like he never heard before.

His gaze looked for Yazoo, even if he found difficult looking away from the eldest brother, and he found him staring at the same scene, a surprised expression on his face.

-I can't leave you two alone for a minute, mh.-

It was his voice, his warm, round, voice, cozy like his hug. Deep and kind, vibrating with a thousand shades of fondness and love. That voice that they had stopped hearing and that was becoming difficult to remember, was now clear and loud.

Loz kneeled before them and extended his hands towards them.

For a moment, Kadaj and Yazoo remained motionless, staring at him with frightened eyes, but he didn't move, not until the youngest took his reaching hand.

He could touch it, hold it, and he held it back.

Surprised, with his lips parted to form a "o" shocked but absurdly happy, he looked at Yazoo, as to suggesting him to do the same.

He too could hold the hand Loz was reaching out, and suddenly all the memories he had lost came back to him, with that warmth that his hand was emanating.

Loz lifted them up just to hold both of them into a hug, the two little silver heads pressed against his chest.

Kadaj could feel his heart beating, the air inside his lungs, even the blood rushing through his veins. He could feel him live, like the nights he fell asleep beside him, cuddled by rhythm of his sleep.

Yazoo felt the same, he could hardly believe it.

-Shall we go?-

Loz asked, distancing himself from them just enough to look them in the eyes.

-Where?-

Yazoo's voice, feeble, broken by tears he hadn't realize he was shedding.

-Wherever we want. We are free now.-

-I'd like to have an ice-cream. – Kadaj muttered, his big sweet eyes towards his eldest brother.  
-Can we?-

-Whatever you want, Kaddie.-

He left a kiss on his forehead and Kadaj could _feel_ it, he could feel everything, he could feel his lips just barely wet on his skin, he could feel the warmth on his forehead, he could feel all the love hidden behind that gesture. He could feel it all.

They started to walk away, held against each other like they were part of the same being, leaving behind the empty shells of what they had been during their life.

* * *

 _ **The Corner**_

This story was originally written by my talented and beloved girlfriend.  
I tried to translate it the best way I could, but I still feel like it wasn't enough to replicate the bright beauty of her amazing writing.  
I love my three babies, she made me love them even more, hope this will do the same with you!


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